Showing posts with label Pop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pop. Show all posts

Saturday, April 14, 2012

BATTLE OF THE BOOGIES

Sunshine.. moonlight.. good times.. boogie..!! If you're NOT thinking Michael Jackson now, the odds are that you know your way around UFO's and have funny ears. Either way, you better think twice.
Because in September 1978, it were good times indeed for the Jackson brothers who, after five consecutive flops, reentered the higher echelons of the Billboard Hot 100 again. At the same time, a certain Michael Jackson got no further than #61 with his single Blame it on the Boogie. This second Michael, usually referred to as Mick, was the 30 year old bearded Brit who actually wrote the disco hit that was sold by his manager to Joe Jackson who was in dear need for an edgier sound to feed to the money machine that sprang from his loins. Not only did this manager 'forget' to inform Mick, he also failed to get that royalties thingy in the sales contract. The rest = history
Mick Jackson, now working from Germany, is still very much enjoying his good health and career, in which he worked with musical misfits as David Knopfler and Lisa Stansfield (not getting any Boogie bucks, a man has to do the occasional dirty job to make some money) but also with the gorgeous Barry Manilow. The full documentary about the Yorkshire Jacko is found here.







Tuesday, April 03, 2012

VACANCES J'OUBLIE TOUT















Did I already state somewhere that I love the Eighties? This 1980 clip by French synthesizer band Elegance features quite a few things that were cool once. Such as: dorks with moustaches, dorks working BIG computers, women in lust for dorks in white suits, dorks flying a glider, see-through bikini's closing in on the dorks' face, dorks singing and laughing with other dorks at the bar. And, of course, a dork fiddling with a bike  (at 0.35). All this magic (OK, maybe they should have had that lame hotrod crashed by Samantha Fox in a DeLorean, but still: magic) was brought to us by Patrick Gilbert, Daniel Bourges and Pierre Antonio Zito, who I think deserve more fame than being virtually intracable, even with the help of Brother Google.